


Drunk Dracula

by Resa_Saso



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Drunk!Doctor, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Mini bit of smut that's barely smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:43:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resa_Saso/pseuds/Resa_Saso
Summary: The Doctor gets drunk. And apparently has some things to talk about. So the Master listens.





	Drunk Dracula

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melkur_Mistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melkur_Mistress/gifts).



He could, in the most literal sense of words, not think straight.

In fact, the Doctor wasn’t even sure, if he could still walk straight. Or walk at all. Best not to test it. He could just stay sitting here and pass his time drinking.

“One more thing!” he shouted into the bar that he had introduced to Banana Daiquiris some time seven Banana Daiquiris ago. People had crowded around him, as he had spent the whole evening telling them the craziest, wildest stories, lapping up every single one of his words. Though, by now, most of them were smirking in amusement rather than awe. He wasn’t sure why. “One more thing! You gotta know! It wasn’t my fault. Did I shoot him? No no no! But his wife. His _wife_. What do we learn? Don’t have wives. Especially him! What would he need a wife for?”

People around him laughed, some raised their eyebrows to one another.

The Doctor frowned.

“No that’s not right. Wives are alright. I had one once. Though that ended in a jealous ex-boyfriend trying to kill me for all my lives. He even once got a wife, even though he haunted me for getting a wife and then got _shot_ by her.” He frowned again, having a weird sense of déjà-vu, he couldn’t quite explain.

“Wait, have I already told you that?”

A few people muttered in agreement and he shrugged over-dramatically, taking another deep sip from his banana daiquiri.

“Oh well!” he got out, syllables very obviously slurred by now. “Happens all the time! Have I told you about the time he was an android? Again! Totally not my fault!”

Well, maybe a little. He had built that android himself, after the Master had crashed into his death in his TARDIS. Maybe a tiny little bit his fault. Still – _They_ didn’t have to know that.

Someone at the end of the room cleared his throat. The Doctor frowned in his direction, not appreciating the fact that there was someone in this bar not listening to his stories with the same enthusiasm as the others – He needed his audience after all!

…Why again?

Oh right, he was alone. He had forgotten about that. A l o n e.

Master gone. Rose gone. Master gone. Donna gone. Master gone. Martha gone. Master gone. Jack gone. Master gone. Mickey gone. Master gone.

Quite a long list.

He took another sip from his drink.

He probably counted someone double. Even sober people did that sometimes. And he was, of course, absolutely sober.

“Wives suck!” he finally called out, smashing his cocktail glass onto the table. “Wives really suck! What did he think? Going off, getting married, snogging her right in front of me! And then getting _shot_ by her!”

There was an awkward silence around the Doctor’s admirers. No one seemed to quite know how to handle the fact that this man the Doctor was clearly _absolutely_ _not_ interested in _at all_ , had died.

It was the bar tender who had the rescuing thought, and wordlessly handed the Doctor a new glass of Daiquiri.

“On the house,” he grumbled.

The Doctor beamed.

“Once, he threw me _off_ a house! Well, a radio tower! Bit higher, actually.”

“Dude got really bitter over you marrying someone else, didn’t he?” a man offered with sympathy in his tone.

There was another subtle cough out of the same corner.

The Doctor drew his eyebrows together and looked up again, shooting the dark figure in the corner another glare.

“Yeahhh!” he continued babbling, the word coming out slurred. “Well. Maybe shouldn’t have left without saying anything while they exiled him for something, I did…”

A lot of glances were exchanged in front of the Doctor’s eyes. Hadn’t he mentioned this before? He was sure he had mentioned – Oh no, he hadn’t, right, he had been too busy with lying to himself. He was busy with that _a lot_!

“Probably shouldn’t have pushed him into a Black Hole as well,” the Doctor giggled.

A lot more glances were exchanged.

Someone shrugged.

“Still better than my marriage.”

A few people laughed, but no one as loud as the Doctor, who had gulped down his new cocktail in one go and was now cackling as if he had never heard anything as funny as that.

“Yeah,” he finally said, wiping away tears of laughter. “It really, really was.”

The man who had talked looked slightly offended but said nothing. The people around him were chuckling and muttering and the Doctor was currently trying to find out, why his tears of laughter didn’t stop running, even though he had stopped laughing.

 _Oh_.

People were now starting to get really uncomfortable. He was just about to ask for another Daiquiri, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, grip gentle but determined.

“I think, you have had enough, my dear Doctor.”

The Doctor blinked, looking up at the face. He turned his head and looked back to the corner where the figure with his infuriating cough had sat, but it was empty. He turned back to the person standing behind him, who had now both eyebrows raised at him.

Well, he thought. That quite explained the timing of the coughs.

“Have you ever tried a Banana Daiquiri?” the Doctor asked in a very serious tone that made the Master smile against his will.

“I have not,” he assured him. “But you have had definitely enough for the both of us.”

“Oh no, no, no!” the Doctor replied earnestly. “You need to try one, now that you’re not dead yet! I can’t let you die without one.”

“Doctor, I believe the alcohol makes you quite emotional. You are crying.”

“What a brilliant observation! Now it’s my turn!” He waved his hand in front of the Master’s face. “You are….” _Dark, brooding, dangerous, beautiful, currently in a stolen body that once belonged to my friend’s father, dead but not dead, an utter jerk for leaving me alone while I was begging you to regenerate even though you haven’t done that yet…._ “… Dracula!”

The Master raised both eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you know, the dark cape, and the dark hair, and the dark clothes beneath the cape, and the teeth that are sometimes…”

The Doctor leaned over, face very close to the Master’s now, looking at his mouth intently enough to miss the Master swallowing hard.

“There!” he pointed at the Master’s teeth, giggling like a little boy. “Canines! All very Dracula-y!”

“Will you take that off my face,” Dracula hissed and slapped away the Doctor’s hand, which only intensified the drunk Time Lord’s giggling.

“You know”, he finally said. “I think I want to kiss you.”

The Master looked taken aback, staring at him with suddenly wide eyes. “You… what?”

“Kiss you. Do these bite? You’re not gonna suck my blood, are you?” The Doctor’s eyes widened dramatically. “I’m not sure I would like that.”

“I do not… I don’t… what?” The Master stammered, obviously lost for words.

With a giggle, the Doctor got off his bar stool, staggered dangerously and stumbled right into the Master’s arms, who caught him with surprising speed.

“We need to sober you up,” he sighed, then turned straight to the bar. “I thank you for your hospitality. It is very gracious of you, to offer him all these drinks on the house. Farewell now.”

The bar tender was still looking confused, but not even close to the confusion that showed on the other guest’s faces, while the Master gently supported the Doctor and led him out of the door. The Doctor waved happily to everyone, not even letting his hand sink as the door gently swung shut behind them, still giggling.

“Think they’ll try that too? Maybe all of them are just gonna try and tell the bar tender he offered them drinks on the house.” Somehow, he seemed to find that thought incredibly amusing. “I forgot how often you hypnotized people. I thiiiink Dracula did that too.”

“Oh, will you stop with that already,” the Master gave back, but the soft smile on his face took away the edge of his annoyed tone.

“I’ll stop if you take off that cape!” the Doctor offered.

Slight snow was falling, and he felt refreshed, taking in the chilly night air with deep, greedy breaths as the flakes melted on his face. He imagined he could feel his head clearing, but the Master knew it was a long time until he’d be back to sober.

He sighed.

“As you wish.”

With a swift move, he removed the cape and threw it over the Doctor’s head, who giggled and tried to free himself while walking. The Master was watching amused, leading him carefully around the lantern pole he was threatening to crash into.

Once his head was free, the Doctor pulled the coat over, hissing like a ridiculous drunk tiger, and trying to look threatening, while actually looking extremely adorable.

“Look at me, I am a vampire!”

The Master shook his head, suppressing a laugh.

“You really need some water.”

The Doctor turned around with a heart-warming smile that made the Master’s hearts stutter, stopped walking and stood in front of him now, watching him.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Is there anything that would make you stop suggesting _that_?” the Master sighed.

The little laugh that answered him sounded absolutely devious - he was almost sure the Doctor didn’t even know how to make that sound while sober.

“Sure, take off the rest of your clothes and I’ll suggest something else.”

The Master’s breath hitched. He hadn’t just said that, had he? Rassilon, he hadn’t just said _that_!

“Stop that,” he barked back, not sure how to react. If this wasn’t a serious offer, if this was his drunken idea of a joke…

But in that moment, he felt sudden, soft lips on his, and a tongue gently slipping into his mouth, and he closed his eyes with a desperate moan. The Doctor tasted of alcohol, bananas and – well, the Doctor, the old, so familiar taste of stars and freedom and red grass and love deeper than the universe could ever understand.

The Master pulled him closer, barely feeling the snow falling down on them now, laid a hand behind his neck and kissed him with everything he had.

For a while, they just stood there, so intertwined with each other, pedestrians that walked by wouldn’t have been able to say where the other one began or ended. Both men were panting as they finally broke the kiss, faces still so close together, they could both feel the other’s breath on their skin.

“Doctor,” the Master murmured against his lips. “I am no one to be stopped by pesky morals if you make an offer in an intoxicated state of mind, I hope you know that.”

The Doctor smiled.

“There’s no banana daiquiri in this world that can make me as intoxicated as I am by you, I promise. And believe me, that means a lot, these people on Raxacoricofallapatorius make quite a nasty…”

Before he could finish that sentence, the Master had already smashed right back into him, pushing him backwards, until the Doctor’s back crashed against his own TARDIS. He tugged at the Master’s hair, pulling him closer while blindly fumbling for his entrance door – Luckily, the TARDIS seemed to understand the absolute urgency of the situation and let the door fall open as soon as he had found it, and they stumbled in, still not breaking the kiss.

Before he even realized what was happening, the Master had pushed him to the floor gently. He was between his legs in no time, pulling down their trousers impatiently, ignoring the rest of their clothes, because there was just no time, no time in the universe for anything other than _this_ , and next thing the Doctor knew, he was inside him, and he was whole, and he was home and it felt like all the pain, all the confusion, the guilt, the crushing loneliness, was just getting fucked right out of him.

His swimming head was beginning to clear up and the Doctor noticed to his own surprise, that there were fresh tears running down his face. He wrapped his arms around the Master, not letting go, not ever wanting to, holding him tight, even as they both had come shouting the name of the other.

The Master let himself fall onto the Doctor, muttering Gallifreyan words of affection, of love, of something so deep, Gallifrey had never had a word before they invented it, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that he was saying them out loud. The Doctor just held him, let a hand gently run through the surprisingly soft hair beneath his fingertips, while using his other arm to press him closer still.

“How did you find me?” the Doctor asked after they had laid silently for a while, the grating boring into his back, but he ignored it, because it was worth not breaking the moment.

The Master just shrugged.

“I always find you.”

“Not anymore.” The Doctor’s eyes filled with sadness, and the Master kissed his neck softly, the beard tickling the sensitive skin, making him smile even though he felt like crying.

“I will. You just wait. You don’t really think that’s going to be my end, do you? Shot by a human? Please.”

“You weren’t even supposed to know that,” the Doctor sighed. “Bloody eavesdropper.”

But the Master just chuckled.

“Apparently I made a good enough job at acting surprised. You just know, I am prepared now. Will be prepared. Was prepared. Whichever.”

“Hm,” the Doctor smiled. “Makes me almost feel hopeful.”

“Good,” the Master smirks. “Because I absolutely need you to show me how to make these delightful Banana Daiquiris.”

The Doctor’s eyes lighted up immediately.

“Ohhh, I will! You’re gonna love them.”

He jumped to his feet, dragging the Master with him on his hand, leading him into the kitchen with some very enthusiastic hops.

The Master grinned.

“You know what…? I think I already do.”


End file.
